Dysfunctional
by Ebb
Summary: After the war, Ginny has to deal with all the members of her family changing from the effects of the Battle of Hogwarts on them. Craziness is sure to ensue as everybody takes thier own unique twist on depression.
1. Welcome to My Life

He sat stiffly on the worn, yet still comfortable, padded wooden bench, his back straight as though being pulled up by a fine string, eyes darting from left to right with amazing celerity, steadily making their way down the page. His arms were held out in front of him, bent, with his elbows up and poised and his wrists suspended in the air as his fingers moved swiftly over the black and white keys. His right foot pressed occasionally onto either of the two pedals next to it, but otherwise he was completely still, playing a somewhat somber classical piece on the black piano. I wanted to kill him. Day in and day out, he sat and played. I was surprised his eyes didn't overwork themselves from reading all of that music, or that his hands didn't cramp up, or his fingers break, or his brain simply melt. He would wake up every day at seven, practice for an hour, have private lessons until two, take a half-hour lunch break, practice until six, take another half-hour to eat dinner, then have more private lessons until eight, practice again until ten, then finally go to sleep with nothing to look forward to other than repeating that same day again. At first it was nice, the music. Not to mention he wasn't around much to cover everything in his overbearing attitude and officiousness. He would play everything; from modern to Mozart, from quick and upbeat songs to soporific funeral-appropriate tunes. However, as the weeks went on, I couldn't help but want to scratch his eyes out, or bite his fingers off, anything to make the horrible music stop. It's enough to drive one crazy. Eventually, I just started going out every day for as long as possible, but mum still wanted to keep a tight hold on me and didn't let me out for long periods of time.

I was sitting in my room on that particular day, cursing the rain for not allowing me the freedom I so desperately needed from that blasted piano. There was a book in my lap, though I found that the sad music didn't go with the mood of the plot, so I lost focus and started staring out the window, a somewhat forlorn look on my face.

And that was when Fleur rushed into my room.

"Oh! I 'ave not seen you in forever!" She said in that sultry, French accent, her gorgeous blond hair flowing behind her as she rushed to gather me into those perfect little arms of hers into a hug. I held her back halfheartedly.

"Hi." I said weakly over her shoulder after inhaling the smell of her expensive French perfume. I was really not in the mood for her perky attitude, overwhelming beauty, and overall perfection. I was in the mood to sit and brood the loss of what could have been a good day.

"Bill and I just wanted to stop by before our 'oliday in Pari'." She said in a slightly superior tone. I managed to smile weakly.

"It's great to see you." I mumbled, casting my eyes back onto by book. The truth is that I never had a strong, sisterly love for Fleur, but I didn't dread her presence either, not at that point anyway. What really cast my spirits down even lower was that I knew that Fleur wouldn't come to the Burrow without Bill, and seeing him in those days just tore me apart.

And, sure enough, Bill showed up in the entrance to my room not ten seconds later, looking worse than ever before. His skin was starkly white, like a sheet, the blank stretches of flesh broken only by the light pink scars that crisscrossed his face like imprints of ice skates against fresh ice, the frail pink color of his lips, and the deep purple bags under his eyes. His hair was thinning slightly and its bright red hue made his complexion look even sicklier. The thought that my big, strong brother was reduced to this struck me all over again when I saw how much worse he was getting. He was quite literally fading away before my eyes.

"Ginny." He said in a small voice. His chapped, pale lips curved upward into a smile at first, but his eyes were still hollow and void of any feeling. I could feel a small part of myself get sucked into that pathetic excuse for a smile and die. He was probably worst of all, even worse than the piano music that I could still hear softly through the walls.

"Hey Bill." I replied, trying to keep my hands and voice steady while getting up to hug him. When my arms were around him, the sad embrace just made me feel worse; I could identify every rib my hand touched.

I sat back down on my bed and an awkward silence filled the room. Yes, our close-knit, happy family was reduced to awkward silence. I looked around in an attempt to find something to look at, anything to divert my attention, and my heart filled with hope momentarily when Charlie walked in.

In comparison to Bill, Charlie was the very picture of health. I was overjoyed at seeing his still-muscular body and rosy cheeks. I was a little disappointed, however, by his plain black robes and new haircut. The ponytail he previously held dear seemed to have been brutally murdered, replaced by a short, utterly _normal _style. His piecing, I quickly noticed, was also nowhere to be seen. He didn't even have the piercing in his ear anymore.

"Ginny!" He said loudly, seeming to spook Bill considerably.

I rushed into his arms, thankful for the first hug that day that I actually enjoyed. He still held me tightly enough to knock my breath out and pick me up.

"I thought I'd surprise you guys and show up for dinner. I know mum made enough food."

I loved seeing somebody who didn't seem to have changed very much emotionally.

"Oh my God, I missed you!" I said as I hugged him again. It was only after the words were out of my mouth that I realized that I must be making Bill jealous. "All of you." I added in an attempt to spare his feelings as I turned out to face the rest of my room.

"So…where is everybody?" Charlie asked as though it was taking his a lot of courage to say.

This is where it got uneasy for me. "Well, I'm sure you noticed where Percy is," I started, rolling my eyes slightly in the direction of the downstairs sitting room, from which there was now an upbeat jazz beat playing. "Mum is out shopping, dad's at work, Ron's in his room, and George…" my voice trailed of. Everybody knew where George was and nobody would dare try to disturb him.

Charlie nodded, half sadly, half understandingly.

"I hope you don't mind. I've brought a…companion of sorts." Charley said.

I smiled slyly. "Oh, I see. I _companion _of sorts. Will this companion require that I set up the guestroom, or will she just be staying in your room?"

Charlie's whole body stiffened and he looked at me as though I just spurted horns. "Ginny." He started, his voice suddenly serious. "Those sorts of jokes aren't appropriate. Miss Hennings is a friend of mine and nothing else." He said sternly.

I was thoroughly taken aback. This was Charlie, the brother with whom I could make 'those sorts of jokes' and not feel like I had to censor myself. I had to admit I was hurt.

"In fact," He continued, "I'd like to have a little talk with you…privately."

Charlie had never taken that tone of voice with me. I didn't whether I should be annoyed, angry, or nervous.

"All right." I said hesitantly. As though on cue, Fleur tugged on Bill's elbow lightly and he quickly followed her out of the room.

Bill took my hand gently and led me back to my own bed, sitting me down like a guest. For some reason, I really wanted to take my hand away from him.

"Ginny," This time his voice was soft, but still serious, "it has come to my attention that you and Harry are seeing each other regularly again." I couldn't tell where he was going with this, but already I could see I wouldn't like it. The urge to pull my hand away strengthened, but I still nodded weakly.

"Well," he continued. "I realize that many young people these days are forgetting the values their parents worked so hard to teach them at a young age just because they feel certain…urges."

I gave out a forced laugh. "Charlie. Are you joking? You sound like one of those 'Ethesistical Community' speakers. What, are you going to try to warn me of the dangers of sin next?"

Charlie just gave me a weak little smile.


	2. Cornelia

"Charlie." I'm stunned. "Why? I mean, we were never into any of that fanatic stuff, I mean…_why?_"

Charlie smiled at me as though he was a wise old man about to reveal an obvious truth to a younger student. At that point, I did pull my hand away and crossed my arms across my chest defensively. I was angry with him. How dare he? Didn't he know that everything – everyone, was already changing? Why did he have to go and take away one of my last comforts?

"Don't call it 'fanatic', Ginny. One of our first rules is to give everyone a fair and untouched chance to express their ideas. It's a great set of guidelines to live by. They help you organize your thoughts and ideas by cutting down on your dependence on physical things."

I just frowned. How could he be so calm? Didn't he realize what this was doing to me? I wanted to tell him this, to scream it in his face, even though I knew it wouldn't do any good, but all that came out of my mouth was an idiotic "Oh."

"Ginny, I know you might not understand why I chose this path, but it really is a good choice for me, or, in my opinion, anybody. The meetings helped me to face myself. For example, the ponytail and piercing were just ways for me to stand out in a crowd of red-haired Weasleys. You don't understand that because you're a girl, and stand out because of that, but now I see that I am notable on my own, and don't need anything extra to catch people's attention. Are you starting to understand?"

I just looked down and nodded slightly, though even that was a lie. I knew that if I opened my mouth, the waterworks would start, and I didn't want to cry in front of somebody who, in my opinion, just betrayed my trust.

"Come downstairs. I want you to meet my dinner cohort. She's really a nice young lady. I'm sure you'll like her."

Since when did Charlie use phrases like 'dinner cohort' or 'nice young lady'?

"I'll be down in a minute." I mutter, still avoiding his gaze.

"I realize this may be hard for you to accept, Gin, but someday you may realize how healthy of a way of life it is. Maybe you'll even come to a meeting with me sometime…"

He was waiting for me to agree, or say that I'll at least think about it, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction, allowing a pause to stretch out between us before responding.

"Just let me take a quick shower and I'll be down in ten minutes."

Charlie sighed. It was the first time in a long time that his disappointment satisfied me in any way.

Just before my door closes after Charlie, I heard mum shout Bill's name out in delight as she arrived home. I sighed deeply. I wanted Harry with me. I closed my eyes and imagined his arms around me, the feeling of safety. I considered sending him a patronus but I knew he was still at auror training and wouldn't be done for another two hours. Dread filled me as I thought about joining my family downstairs for two whole hours without Harry by me, then grief joined the anxiety as I realized I was actually _dreading _being with my family. How did we get to this point? Everything was different before this past June, when that blasted Battle at Hogwarts destroyed us.

The piano was playing a funeral song that couldn't be more suited to my mood.

-

Cornelia Hennings was a very plain-looking girl, which was the first thing I noticed about her. She had straight black hair slicked back into a high ponytail and a very standard face; pale in contrast to her hair, oval shaped with big black eyes, thick long eyelashes, strong brows, high cheekbones, a small but pointed nose, and the slightest bit of an overbite. I took in every one of those details as I inspected her face while shaking her bony hand, white and cold. She smiled very officially at me, as though it was only because that was the appropriate thing to do. I disliked her from the moment I laid eyes on her, and not just because I saw her as the reason for Charlie's drastic change in lifestyle.

"It's nice to meet you." I said as I tried not to let my distaste show in my fake smile.

"Yes." She said briskly as she pulled her hand away from mine. "Likewise."

After a long pause in which I looked over pleadingly at Charlie and Cornelia looked straight at me, Charlie asked Cornelia if she wanted to see his old room. She just looked at him, frozen and aghast.

"Uh, er, with Ron, of course." He stammered. Cornelia seemed to relax a little, but she still had a sort of stiffness about her that made me want to shake her until she'd unwind. When they were halfway up the stairs, I could have sworn I'd heard her murmur "That top is too revealing…" before her voice faded away. I quickly pulled my shirt down lower to expose more of my cleavage just out of spite.

When they were gone, I tried looking over at Fleur for support, but she was busy rubbing Bill's arm while looking at him sympathetically. Needless to say, I found no other reason for staying in that room any longer, especially with its maddening proximity to the sitting room with that dreadful piano, which at that moment kept repeating a sour chord, trying to hit it perfectly.

I found myself wandering toward the kitchen, as I had done on numerous occasions before the war in search of something to snack on. By the time I realized that I no longer wanted to be anywhere within twenty feet of my mother, however, she had spotted me.

"Ginny!" She said in a high-pitched tone that threatened to rupture my eardrum. "My girl! Come give me a kiss!"

Grudgingly, I walked over to the stranger that used to be my mother and allowed her to kiss my cheek.

"You look lovely. Help me set up for dinner, dear." She continued as she checked on something in the oven, wearing a smile that seemed stapled onto her face.

"Is dad coming?" I asked. It was a bitter question that I already knew the answer to, but I just wanted to do anything to peel that grin off her face. For half a second, it worked.

"N-no, dear. He's very busy at the Ministry. Yes, very busy." And the smile was back. I couldn't see it because her head was still halfway in the oven, but I could tell from her tone and the way her muscles stiffened slightly as she assumed her 'usual' position.

I went over to the cupboard with the dishes and took out enough dinner plates to feed all of us Weasleys minus dad, plus Fleur, Cornelia, and Harry, who I was still hoping would show up in time to save me.

"My God." Ron started as he walked into the dining room just as I was setting the last plate down. "If you can find a more boring person on this earth than that Cornelia girl, I will personally give you half of any income I get from _anything_ for the rest of my life." He ranted as he plopped down into his usual chair. "Do you know that they have a rule, that little club does, that you can't come within three feet of anyone you are interested in, to prevent 'yearning'? I swear I just spent a good five minutes of my life listening to 'and this is my old teddy bear, Mr. Jenkins, and this is my old bed, which naturally isn't as comfortable as it once was, and this is…' blah blah blah. And all the while she's standing there, all straight and pale and whatnot, standing as far away from the both of us as possible. It was desperately boring…" I lost almost all of my attention after that and instead turned my attention to the smell of alcohol on his breath. He was clever in trying to hide it, no doubt about that, but there were still traces of it in the air. What an idiot, coming downstairs in such a state. No telling what mum would do if she caught him; it might have finally snapped her, which may not have been a bad thing. Still, I cast a scent-nuetralizing charm on him. But there was not charm to make him sober.


	3. Tuck In!

"All right, everybody, tuck in!" Mum said cheerily as she came into the dining room and placed a steaming dish of roast beef on the table before sitting down opposite her husband's empty chair. "Dear me. It's so nice to have everybody around the table again."

I just looked at her. This was anything but nice. Especially because I was sitting across from Bill, the living ghost.

"Yes, it is, mother." Charlie replied, smiling. Since when did he stop calling her 'mum'?

"Oh, and of course, it is always wonderful to have a friend of Charlie's joining us." Mum went on.

Cornelia gave her a crisp smile that had virtually no emotion behind it.

"Everything looks delicious, mother. Really it does." Charlie said.

"Yes. It looks very nice, Mrs. Weasley." Cornelia added.

The conversation was so strained I wanted to scream. In fact, it was almost a relief when silence fell over the table.

"So, Percy, your piano playing is getting along quite nicely. Was that Bach you were playing last? It was beautiful." Mum said after several minutes of unbearable quietude.

"Mother, that was Chopin." He said in a patronizing tone. "Now please pass the potatoes, you know I only have half an hour."

Mum's arm twitched toward the bowl of mashed potatoes, but then resumed its position by her side. "Uh, dear, you could always take a little more time to enjoy dinner with your family. We can listen to your playing after dinner."

Percy just stared at her, unresponsive, still waiting for the potatoes. Finally, I passed them over. I could have sworn my mother was about to give me a disapproving look.

"Mmm, these potatoes are so good! Bill, try some." Fleur said in an exaggerated, hopeful tone as she looked up at her unresponsive husband. Bill slowly picked up his fork and put some food in his mouth as though it revolted him. He slipped it down his throat before giving a small nod. Fleur looked as though she was about to cry, but all she did was rub his back affectionately.

"Mum's potatoes," Ron started in an obnoxious voice. "Were always...over-salted. BUT, I missed them over the past year. I did."

Well, at least he wasn't slurring.

Mum just looked at him. I could tell by the expression in her eyes that she was angry as hell. Not only was he drunk at the dinner table, but he insulted her cooking too.

Everybody except Bill looked back and forth from mum to Ron, not knowing what to expect next. Even Percy took a break from shoveling food into his mouth to gaze at his mother.

"I-uh" She cleared her throat "I'll put less salt in next time."

"You know," Cornelia started after a long pause, "it could use a bit of pepper too."

"My husband is allergic to pepper." Mum snapped, the smile still on her face. Nobody commented on the lie, or that her husband hadn't been to dinner in weeks.

"Well. Thank you for dinner. I'm going to get some practice in-" Percy started before Charlie discreetly pulled him back into his seat.

"You know what you need, lady?" Ron asked Cornelia suddenly after several moment of staring blankly at his plate as though deep in thought.

Cornelia frowned and looked at him.

"You are too damn uptight. All right?"

"Excuse me!" Charlie said.

"It's all right, it's all right." Cornelia said, then murmured under her breath, "He doesn't understand our rules anyway..."

Mum put her fork down, though she still had traces of a smile on her face. "What rules are these, then?"

"Um, it's not important right now-" Charlie stuttered.

"Not important!?" Cornelia exclaimed.

"What rules?" Now she was really frowning and I was torn between fear and relief.

"What, you don't know? We're part of the Ethetistical Wizard Society of Britain."

"Cornelia, that was too soon-" Charlie started to mutter.

"YOU WHAT?!" She rose out of her chair

Percy looked like he was about to choke, Fleur was glancing wide-eyed back and forth between Bill and Charlie, and Bill just looked with empty eyes at his mother.

I have to admit, I was just happy to see _something _happening.

"Can't we wait until after dinner...?" Charlie sounded desperate.

"Yes. Please, after dinner, maybe in private?" I interjected in a small voice. I never liked playing the scared, innocent little girl, but Charlie needed my help, even though I still couldn't stand the thought of him being part of any of that Ethetistical stuff.

Mum looked over at me, slightly surprised, as though only noticing my existence at that very moment. Her expression softened and she sat back down. "Of course, dear."

As though waiting for the worst possible moment to arrive, dad's patronus leaped onto the table not five minutes later, his voice shattering the hard, fragile silence.

"Hello, everybody. Listen, I'm sorry about not making it to dinner. I really am swamped here. Molly, please send hellos to everybody. I love you dear. Er, also, I have a ton to catch up on tonight so...don't wait up."

Great. Because mum really needed to be in a worse mood right then.

Fleur sniffed softly as she grabbed hold of Bill's arm and stroked it softly.

"Fleur, relax. He's not going anywhere." Ron said bitterly.

"How do _you _know?" Her voice cracked along with her calm exterior. "You don't know what it's like. 'E-e 'asn't spoken in w-weeks."

"Oh, would you calm down?! What, you want your family to go back to its perfect bubble again. Well, there are worse things than depressed husbands, all right?"

"I am so sick of everybody in this family assuming I don't feel any pain. At least your father says 'I love you' once in a while." A tear fell down her cheek and her hands were shaking violently. "I'm pregnant! And he doesn't _care_!" She threw her napkin onto the table and stormed out, the tears streaming down her face.

* * *

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	4. Confessions

Bill was too upset to go near his wife, Cornelia didn't want Charlie within fifteen feet of Fleur for obvious reasons, Ron was out again, probably drinking more, and Percy was trying to play piano, but everything was off-key. Mum was making herself busy in the kitchen, so that left me to comfort the quarter-veela. After all, she stormed up to _my _room.

I stood outside my door, not wanting to go in. Nervously, I ran my fingers through my hair. It was one of Harry's idiosyncrasies that I picked up from being around him so much. Carefully, ready to be received by screaming, I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

" Fleur?" I poked my head through the door.

Thankfully, she was quietly sitting on my bed. "I feel so stupid. Je ne peux pas croire moi-même." She sniffled. It was the first time I realized that she lapsed back into her native tongue when upset. "I made such a fool of myself. I'm sorry." Her eyes and face were red but she had stopped crying for the most part. It almost felt surreal to sit down next to her in the tranquility of the summer twilight that was leaking in through the opened window after being surrounded by such chaos.

"Fleur, it's all right. They-they'll understand." I couldn't be sure of that, but it sounded like the right thing to say.

She smiled weakly at me. "I don't know what to do." She whispered. "I don't want to bring a child into the world if 'is father will be incapable of loving 'im."

I never pitied her so much before. "Hey, I mean…h-he'll get better." It was a pathetic comment that in no way could be classified as helpful or comforting, but I couldn't think of anything better to say. I couldn't shake the idea that I wasn't the right person to be giving her this talk and I felt uncomfortable. Evidently, she caught onto my uneasiness.

"I'm sorry." She apologized again as she started setting her already perfect hair back into place in an attempt to put herself together. "Zis izn't appropriate." She took a deep breath in and let it out in a sigh. "So, what's new with you?" Her voice was still thick from crying, and I couldn't help but chuckle at her effort to sound casual.

"Nothing much." I lied as I stared out the window.

"I'm sure zat's not true, considering your family." She smiled.

"Good point."

Silence stretched between us before I finally figured out what to say that I had been neglecting since entering the room.

"Congratulations. When are you due?"

Fleur chuckled. "Thanks. April 3."

"That's great." I couldn't help but smile at the prospect of a new baby.

Fleur didn't respond and I couldn't help but take it to mean that she disagreed.

"Listen." She finally said after a pause. "Do you mind if I stay 'ere a bit? I don't vant to face everybody…yet."

"I know the feeling." I took a deep breath. "Take as long as you need."

"Thank you."

Several minutes passed with no sound piercing the atmosphere except her occasional sniffling.

"Ginny, I know it iz a bit of a…sensitive topic, but…'ow is George?"

That was the last thing I could have hoped for her to ask. "He's…the same. I haven't seen him since the funeral." The very thought of George and the word 'funeral' sent a fresh stab into my chest, ripping right through the band-aid I'd worked so hard to glue over my heart.

Fleur just nodded and sniffed again.

After several moments in which the very atmosphere seemed to be frozen in time, I grabbed my book and started looking for the spot I'd left off at. What can I say? I couldn't think of anything else to break the tension.

"This is so…'ow do you say it…surreal." Fleur said just as I located the last sentence I'd read. "I've always thought that announcing my pregnancy would be 'appy." She chuckled in spite of herself before getting up and walking over to my window. It was dark by that point, and Fleur pressed her forehead against the cool glass and watched as her breath made a circle of fog below her nose. I watched as she drew random, indistinguishable shapes into the mist with her fingertip, too entranced by the stark, velvety night on the other side of the glass to return to my book.

"Do you think 'e will ever be 'imself again?" She asked the black sky softly.

"Yes." I was surprised at the conviction in my own voice and couldn't help but wonder who I was trying to convince more; Fleur or myself.

-

"Fleur?" Mum's head poked through the door several minutes later. When she saw that we weren't engaged in serious conversation, she allowed herself in, squealing as she pulled her daughter-in-law into a tight hug. "Oh, congratulations! When are you due?"

Obviously, mum chose the road of ignoring Fleur's qualms over her pregnancy.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley." She said in barely-audible voice. For some reason, I was overcome with sadness at that moment and wanted very badly to leave my room, but couldn't think of a good excuse for doing so.

"I'm due April 3."

"Oh, how wonderful! Arthur's forty-fifth birthday is on the tenth; it will be a month to celebrate!" She exclaimed in a high-pitched tone. "Come downstairs, darling. Everybody can't wait to congratulate you."

Somehow, I found that difficult to believe. Apparently, so did Fleur.

"Er…in several minutes, Mrs. Weasley. I need a moment."

"Oh, of course, dear!" She kissed both of Fleur's cheeks before rushing out of the room. Part of me didn't want to see her go just because I felt uneasy being alone with her again.

Fleur turned away from the window and leaned up against the sill, staring at the floor, an expression of grief on her face. She quietly sighed and left the room, a cold, resigned expression on her face.

When she was gone and the door clicked softly behind her, I glanced around my room, taking in the emptiness of the space as though not yet ready to acknowledge that I'm finally alone again.

I had read twenty full pages of my book before hearing another soft knock on my door.

"Come in." I called, all at once tired from the long day, slightly exasperated, and hopeful that it would be somebody I could deal with.

As luck would have it, Bill entered the room.

"Gin?" His voice was nearly hoarse.

"Yes?" I tried to sound understanding, but couldn't help but think that my exhaustion – and my fear of my own brother – came through in my tone.

"Gin, is Fleur mad at me?" He came into my room but lingered by the door, evidently ashamed of himself.

"She's just…" I didn't know what exact adjective would appease him, so I ended up saying what I really thought. "scared."

Bill sighed and dropped down into the nearest chair as though about to collapse.

"I – I can't really say anything in my own defense."

Since when was _I _the person everybody came to with their problems?

"Just…I didn't mean for it to happen. A-and at first I tried to pretend like nothing was wrong but…" He shrugged.

I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry." Even as I said it I knew it wouldn't help anything.

I didn't think it would turn out like this I mean, I don't…" He sighed as though it was causing him pain to say this. "I don't want this kid." He said it so quietly I almost didn't hear it. In fact, I would have been very happy not to have heard it, because his confirmation of something I already had a feeling about sent something cold plunging through my chest. I felt a huge rush of pity for the not-yet-formed baby somewhere in Fleur's stomach.

"Oh."

Bill looked around a bit awkwardly before finally getting up and clearing his throat. "I'm sorry about that." He then quickly left the room.

As soon as he was gone, I collapsed down onto my bed. Why? Why did everybody want to confide in _me_? Why did mum have to be so happy that nobody could trust her anymore? I wanted to get away from my family before somebody else would come in to pour their heart out to me. I wanted to punch something out of rage. I hated all the sudden responsibility. And then, of course, a knock came at my door.

"What?" I said bitterly.

The door opened slowly, cautiously, and then:

"Harry! Oh my god." I couldn't help the enthusiastic greeting as I was flooded with joy at the sight of those bright green eyes. As quickly as possible I rushed over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, squeezing him close enough to smell the laundry detergent on his shirt. There was possibly nothing more comforting right then than the feeling of his arms around me, the feeling of ultimate safety in a universe about to shatter.

"What? Did I miss something?" He asked, surprised at my excitement.

I just sighed and muttered "yes" quietly into his shoulder.

-

-

**Okay, guys, that's chapter 4. Hope you liked it. Please review (please!) because the reviews make me feel like it's worth posting this stuff because somebody actually reads it. **


	5. Promiscuity

Five minutes later, I was sitting in Harry's lap, his nose nuzzled into my neck as I looked out into the night sky. We weren't talking, just sitting quietly and enjoying each other's peaceful company.

Then, suddenly, the tranquility was ruined by soft mumblings outside my door. I couldn't tell who it was, but it sounded like an aggravated female voice trying hard to keep quiet. After several minutes of ignoring the soft murmurings, there was finally a soft knock at my door. I took a deep breath, trying to get my annoyance under control.

"Come in."

Charlie slowly opened the door, evidently sorry to interrupt. I tried to look behind him into the hall to see who was talking to him, but there was nobody there. Irritated, I pulled Harry closer to me, just because I knew it might anger him.

Charlie cleared his throat. "Hey, Harry! Long time no see!" He started obnoxiously as he strode over to us and grabbed my boyfriend's hand. "Ah, you don't mind, do you?" He asked as he sat down next to us.

A year ago, this would have been funny. I would have shaken my head in disbelief and killed him later for being so overprotective and not allowing us any time alone. Now, I wanted to strangle him.

"So, I'm at work several weeks ago, right? (And you will appreciate this after that Horntail in your fourth year.) So, a little horntail hatches and this new kid, Sam, starts playing with it and cuddling it. I know, completely idiotic, right? So at one point, he starts playing with the baby's wings. The thing gets _pissed_, obviously, breaths fire all over his arm. By the time the rest of us hear his screaming and get in there, he's rolling around on the floor, and his right arm is just _covered_ in these big, bubbling blisters and-"

"Oh my God. Do you have to talk about this _now_?!" I interjected, knowing exactly why he chose to tell a story of this exact nature.

"Don't worry, Gin, I'm almost done. So then, the guy goes into _shock_, and starts vomiting, everywhere. I mean I didn't even think that much _junk_ could fit into one person-"

"Okay, have fun." I said sarcastically as I left the room. I knew separating us physically was Charlie's goal and didn't want it work, but I was too angry at him to stay in there. I could have sworn I'd caught a glimpse of an apologetic glance from Harry before the door shut. Damn, Charlie knew how to be a pain sometimes.

So, I went downstairs and, as the cherry on the cake, Cornelia was sitting in the living room, alone, looking at me with a hostile expression on her face while stirring a cup of coffee. I tried to pass her on my way to the sitting room, but she stopped me.

"Sit down, Ginevra." She said sternly, the way my mother used to.

I feel the impulse to stubbornly leave the room, but take the seat across from her anyway. I look at her expectantly, silently. As soon as I sat down, I regretted listening to her; I didn't want her to think that I would instantly do whatever she asked.

"Ginevra," She started as I noted that I was glad she didn't decide to use any nickname for me, "I understand that you and Harry Potter are…seeing each other now. Right?"

I didn't like where this was going – I didn't need a repeat of Charlie's earlier lecture.

"Yes." I said through gritted teeth.

"Well then, I think it appropriate to give you this." Cornelia said in a voice that sounded like glass as she took a heavy book out from under her chair, where she had apparently been hiding it. "This is a very useful guide that I advise you turn to every time you face a difficult decision." It was strange to hear something that sounded so thoughtful and caring to come from her loveless voice. Nevertheless, I took the book skeptically and opened it to a random page. _In fact, the complexity of the matter deepens when seen in comparison with average muggles, which have been shown to exhibit many traits unparalleled in spontaneity to the perplexities of their intricate – yet completely baseless – judgement of… _It certainly didn't sound like something I wanted to take advice from.

"Uh…thanks." I said hesitantly.

"You're welcome." She got up with her coffee and went into the sitting room.

I wanted to throw her stupid book in the fire.

"I!" My resentful thoughts were interrupted by Ron's booming voice. "WANT TO MAKE…" He stopped to hiccup in the doorway, his words slurred. "AN ANNOUNCEMENT!" He then broke out in uncontrollable laughter.

Percy started playing a particularly somber Tchaikovsky piece.

The combined weight of the book in my hand, Ron's drunken voice, and the incessant piano threatened to crush my head in.

I felt alone and attacked from all sides. What could I have done? I ran upstairs and burst into my own room.

"Charlie. Get. Out." I said through gritted teeth as I slammed the door open. Charlie, who was slumped over on my bed with Harry laughing hysterically about something, instantly sobered himself. He may have been nearly twice my age but still didn't dare mess with me when I was pissed of.

He sighed as he got up, wiping away the tears that came with uproarious laughter. As he was passing me he gave my shoulder a squeeze, almost like a warning. I rolled my eyes.

"Hey." I said in a husky voice.

"Hey yourself." Harry grinned when he realized what I wanted and matched my tone. I walked over to him slowly, swinging my hips dramatically, slipping my jumper off as I went. I came up to the bed and stood next to Harry in my bra.

"Kiss me." I said playfully.

Harry smiled and obeyed dutifully. He then took me by the shoulders and dragged me down onto the bed with him. The bra went first, then Harry's shirt, then his pants, then mine, then finally the bothersome underwear.

An hour later, we came downstairs, somewhat refreshed, holding hands and giggling about stupid nothings. If everybody wasn't so concerned with their own worlds at that moment, they would have destroyed me for my promiscuity, especially mum. Fortunately, though, she was busy baking cookies like her life depended on it, Percy was absorbed into the piano, Fleur only had eyes for Bill, who only had eyes for the wall, and Ron was upstairs in his room. Charlie and Cornelia were the only ones frowning at us from opposite sides of the couch. Cornelia's eyes seemed especially dark and seemed to say "give me my book back."

It was then that a series of clangs came from the front door, after which a tall, gaunt, red-haired figure stepped through the threshold.

"Dad!"


End file.
